"You were lucky to have that time with her. My Mom was great, but there wasn't much time for just her and me. I guess that's why I'm sort of making up for it now. I'm glad I'm the youngest. I've finally got her to myself."
"That's part of why traveling was so special to me. I didn't have to share her with my father. We had wonderful days, but once he came home from work, most of the energy in the house went into keeping him happy. Never an easy task."
"Was he cruel to you?"
"Not unless you consider being incredibly cold a form of cruelty. He could be caustic, too, when he chose."
And you have certainly inherited that ability, Tristan. "That's sad. My dad is a lot of things, but cold isn't one of them."
"My mother made up as best she could. The trips were part of that."
"My family never traveled any further than the Jersey Shore. Not exactly an exotic vacation destination. My mother envied me when I scraped together enough nickels and dimes to backpack through Europe."
"If I ever had children, I would show them the world."
I wondered if I should censor my next question. But I didn't. "Do you want to have children, Tristan?"
He surprised me by taking his time before giving me a thoughtful answer. "Children seem to be the greatest risk of all in life. I often wonder if my mother would have chosen to have me if she had had a crystal ball."
"How can you say that? She obviously adored you!"
"Yes and then she left me with a man who couldn't . . . who wouldn't . . . I just wonder if she had known how it all was going to end up, if she would have brought me into the world."
"And how has it ended up? You're a hugely successful man who seems to live a rather full life."
"Is that how I appear to you?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact it is. Okay, so there's a strange dark side to you. I mean, this whole 'no expectations thing' of yours has to come from somewhere. I'm guessing it stems from losing your mother at such a tender age."
The shadow that darkened Tristan's face frightened me. I knew I had overstepped. "Is it impossible for you to remember the one thing I have asked of you? If I want psychoanalysis, I can afford the best. Amateur hour isn't my style when it comes to healing my delicate damaged soul." He spit the last three words out with so much sarcasm and venom that I winced.
He leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes. It was a pretty clear message. The conversation was over.
***
"Holy Shit! Look at that!" I couldn't help myself. When we approached Carcassonne, the sight of the towers, the ramparts, and just the hugeness of the ancient relic overwhelmed me. Tristan seemed more than happy to rouse himself from his (pretend) nap and get us back onto safe, neutral ground. He could turn on a dime; that much I knew. The icy mood was gone. If I still felt the sting of his words, which was clearly going to be my problem and mine alone.
"It's amazing, isn't it? It was restored in the 1800's and the whole process was quite controversial. Carcassonne is the largest surviving walled city of its kind. I, for one, don't mind if Viollet-le-Duc took a few liberties in the nineteenth century."
I leaned toward the window, angling for a better look. Tristan picked up the intercom mike and told Kwan to pull over onto the shoulder. "You really need to take it all in before we go inside the city. Appreciating it from a distance is critical."
We stood on a small hill overlooking the arched bridge over the Aude River. The sun brushed that peculiar golden light over the landscape that makes everything seem like a painting. I looked over at Tristan, his profile strong and masculine against the backdrop of the green countryside. A wave of gold-brown hair caught in the slight breeze and fluttered behind his ear. I wanted to touch him again. I wanted to tell him I was sorry for trying to pry open the lockbox that held his pain. But I really wasn't sorry. I was only sorry that he had reacted the way he did.
I couldn't compartmentalize like he could. How was it possible for a man to be so intimate and so distant at the same time? How could he touch me, caress me, worship me and care for me and still shut down completely when I tried to get past his rigid barriers? When I sighed, he took it as a reaction to the stunning sight in front of us.
"I've always thought this place should have been the inspiration for Oz. But in reality, the legend is that this is the city that inspired 'Sleeping Beauty'." He took my hand and shot me the look I'd come to think of as 'kid in a candy shop'. It was the look that told me he was about to bestow an exquisite discovery and he couldn't wait. For the moment, and not for the last time, I would choose to push my misgivings aside in favor of his gifts.
Carcassonne defied my wildest expectations. I'd seen all sorts of castles and ruins in Europe, but never anything so well preserved, so real. I wouldn't have been surprised to see a band of knights in armor ride through one of the cobbled streets on massive steeds decked out in royal colors. It looked almost like a movie set and Tristan informed me that it had in fact been used as a backdrop for "Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves" in the 90's.
Although it would have been impossible to furnish and decorate the entire walled city as it would have been at its glory, it was marvelous to see the relics, tapestries and ordinary stuff that might have belonged to the people who once lived there.
Tristan followed me as I almost skipped around the old city. It was a delightful place and I wanted him to know how much I was enjoying it. I took his hand in mine as we strolled along the ramparts and looked out over the escarpment that ended at the Aude River.
"Thank you for bringing me here. I had no idea it would be this amazing."
"There are over fifty towers at Carcassone. See those two over there?" he asked pointing to a far corner of the city. "That's where Mom and I stayed when we were here. It was during July and she knew about the annual event when the city is set ablaze with fireworks. The view from our rooms in the tower was something I'll never forget."
I tried to think of some comment to make that was appropriate and neutral. I didn't want to get too 'personal' and sour the mood of a fantastic experience as I had in the car. "It sounds like your mother planned your trips so a kid could get the most out of them."
"She did. That she did." He steered me toward a shop that sold hand milled soaps and colognes all infused with local herbs and flower essences. "Let's put a basket together for Marjorie. Any woman would love these products…" He began to pile all sorts of different bottles and boxes in the shopping basket to put together a collection for my mother. It was thoughtful and poignant; almost as if in giving my mother a gift, he could honor the memory of his.